7-16 Millimeters
by kanmuri
Summary: Lars, Steven, and a particular pair of gauged ears.


Title: 7/16 Millimeters

Pairing/s: None.

Disclaimer: Tune in next week for more Fantastic Tales from working in childcare!

Summary: Well, _someone's_ gotta watch Steven when the Gems are away.

* * *

" _Get a job,_ " his mom said. " _You'll make money,_ " his mom said. " _Maybe then you'll stop whining about that video game you know I'm never gonna buy you,_ " his mom said.

To be fair, Mom wouldn't buy him that video game because she had enough trouble affording rent on a monthly basis. But Lars had glue in his hair, pink Sharpie all over his face, and a piercing headache which argued, quite convincingly, that his Mom was, in fact, a bitch. He wasn't _feeling_ particularly fair.

Of course, it was probably at least _partly_ his fault. He could admit that mainly because only an _idiot_ would accept a job offer from someone as clearly desperate as his employer was. " _You're a lifesaver, kid. I was beginning to think there wasn't a babysitter left in Beach City who would take him!_ "

Yeah, okay. Maaaaaybe 50% his fault. But he was positive he could fit his mom into the equation, somehow. Lars was an _expert_ at blaming people.

"Kid, I swear to God if you _touch_ that TV, I will—"

"Lars? Hey, Lars, can we go to the beach?"

"Do you take a _swirling vortex of destruction_ to the beach?" Lars shot back incredulously.

Six-year-old Steven Universe looked up at him from beneath a mop of messy black curls. "Um, I dunno? I've only seen a couple of those there before, and the Gems took care of them pretty quick, so it was okay. Dad says I might be able to go on missions with them one day! That'd be so cool! Hey, do you have any Sonic?"

Lars pinched the bridge of his nose. "I already told you, I'm not letting you near my TV."

"Oh, what about stories? Tell me a story! The Gems always tell me the best stories."

"No way, man. Can't you like, I dunno, take a nap or something? Kids take naps, right?" Lars asked desperately. Steven cocked his head, considering.

"Well, I don't, usually. Unless I stay up really late, then Dad lets me sleep while he works. Hey, I know, we could jam!"

"No," Lars was saying flatly before the words were even out of the kid's mouth. Steven's face twisted in an expression of brief disappointment, but it was gone in an instant, mercurial to the point it left Lars dizzy.

"Hey, you have your ears pierced? Wow, I really like your earrings!" Steven exclaimed, and Lars reached up to finger his plugs a little self-consciously. Without thinking, Steven reached up his own pudgy little fingers to touch Lars' plugs.

"Steven, wait—"

 _Pop!_

Steven's mouth dropped open as the plug clattered to the floor, revealing the pencil-sized hole in Lars' earlobe.

"Steven," Lars began, honestly intending to reassure. But as many people had tried to convince him in the last few years, Lars was quite possibly the spawn of the devil, and an evil thought occurred to him as he took in the look of horror on Steven's face. He doubled over abruptly, clutching his nude lobe. "Argh!" he cried, "Steven, what did you _do?!_ "

Tears sprang to Steven's wide, mortified eyes. "Lars! Lars, oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to! I didn't know—I didn't know I'd press so hard, oh gosh, oh gosh, I didn't mean to make such a big hole! We need to call a doctor! We need—" He dropped to his knees, fumbling frantically for the plug. "Here, stick it back in, it'll stop the bleeding, oh gosh…"

With Steven's 'help', Lars gently pushed the plug back in, feigning pain. When it was secure, he looked up, still gripping his ear. "Steven..." Lars rasped, "Can you do something for me?"

"Anything! Anything!"

"Go to that corner," Lars whispered, pointing. "Pull that blanket over your head, and be quiet until your Dad gets here. Loud noises make the pain worse."

"You need a doctor!" Steven cried, then froze as Lars let out a hoarse moan. "Oh no, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'll go to the corner right now! Please don't die!"

Lars watched with eminent satisfaction as the six-year-old all but bolted for the corner of his room, burying himself under a blanket he dragged off the edge of Lars' bed. Lars waited for a moment, ears straining; the only sound was Steven breathing, the blanket pulsing slightly with each tiny inhalation. Nodding, Lars pulled out his headphones, and prepared for the imminent return of Mr. Universe.

Y'know, he could get used to working life.

* * *

 _fin_


End file.
